Simone & Possibilities of something else entirely

I went up to pay the rent, late for the 15th but it’s a weekend so closed to the public. Then what to my wayward Surprise than bunches of cars in the parking lot. A light on in one of the back windows. Crappers. They’re holding a meeting, likely management for the Estates. I do not drop my envelope into the mailslot for such things. Just in case someone decides to empty the box and make a deposit with my check. The one that I hope will be covered tomorrow with an early deposit from the government, due on Wednesday. *Sigh* I’ll have to wander back out and around later.

While I was busy not-paying the rent, I forgot to mention that Simone de Beauvoir died on April 14, 1986. She was 78, so near 80 and yet full of life. Apparently she died in a hospital. It was stated that she had been struggling since an operation she had undergone in March. The actual cause of death does not appear to have been given. It is also interesting that the following day would be the anniversary of the death of her long-time love—John Paul Sartre.

“In old age we should wish still to have passions strong enough to prevent us turning in on ourselves.” I don’t believe she means looking inside, but rather becoming self-absorbed and immobile. As well as a champion for the recognition and treatment of old age: The Coming of Age, she considered  how chance and choice converge to make us who we are. Among other writerly things.

Simone was born on January 9, 1908, in Paris, France. She was a French writer and feminist, a member of the intellectual fellowship of philosopher-writers who have given a literary transcription to the themes of existentialism.

May you so rest in peace, our dear friend and hero.

After this some kind of T.V. stuff happened and I got involved there. Now I’m watching something about those Middle Earth people and Dwarfs and Elves. Pretty cool though I thought that I had not ever watched this. Now it turns out I think I do know this. More than “About Having Been Here Before.” Moving on…Had to go out and back to pay the rent…

…while it was still somewhat light out. Before I got totally freaked out. And Ja, I did take a little dragon with me. Then I had this thought…is this what Fear is then? All of the small on-earth fears that we don’t even contemplate? Thought must be stopped or it could make us freak out. And then Really, Really, Freak-Out. As it would build year by year it would then become more and more ugly and more and more powerful. Powerful as in now an Identity of its own. I had to practically crawl to my apartment door. *Whew* Obviously I made it back as ’tis I doing the typing.

Back to the movie…

And now obviously to bid thee adieu.

Old Faces

In the morning
After taking cold shower
—-what a mistake—-
I look at the mirror.
There, a funny guy,
Grey hair, white beard, wrinkled skin,
—-what a pity—-
Poor, dirty, old man,
He is not me, absolutely not.
Land and life
Fishing in the ocean
Sleeping in the desert with stars
Building a shelter in the mountains
Farming the ancient way
Singing with coyotes
Singing against nuclear war—
I’ll never be tired of life.
Now I’m seventeen years old,
Very charming young man.
I sit quietly in lotus position,
Meditating, meditating for nothing.
Suddenly a voice comes to me:
“To stay young,
To save the world,
Break the mirror.”
—Nanao Sakaki

Posted by Poetic Outlaws

Someone once said “Old age is a terrible thing to happen to a 12-year-old child.” That’s one of those things you wish you’d said and think perhaps you did.

The old man said “Yeah, that’s the truth all right. Doesn’t matter. You brush your teeth and go to bed. Soon enough you die anyway. Then you don’t have to think about it.” Sounds like a poem to me, I said.

He said, “I never wrote poetry. Maybe the guys who do don’t die. They’ll still get old though. So I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Still, I guess I’d rather just grow old.”